


Rock Collection

by GraydleRabbit



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: Alien Biology, Gen, Geology, Macro/Micro, Pet Ownership - Freeform, Rock Aliens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:40:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29074215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GraydleRabbit/pseuds/GraydleRabbit
Summary: Thomas gets a pet rock for his birthday. Thomas is not happy about the homework that comes with it.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	Rock Collection

**Author's Note:**

> * _slaps roof of barians_ * This Bad Boy Can Fit So Much Bullshit Science In It
> 
> i just wanted to write about hypothetical living rock pet and lil nasch

‘ _… Shortly after their introduction to Earth, these unique silicon-based lifeforms quickly revolutionized the exotic pet trade all across the globe for a number of reasons._

_One of the more important reasons is interspatial law in regards to the trade of alien species. Their inability to proliferate without the atmosphere and soil of their native habitat—which contain several elements found only on that planet currently—means that barians are one of the very few alien species that can be legally owned and sold within the boundaries of Earth. Barians that escape captivity pose very little threat to the sensitive ecosystems of Earth as they will not be able to reproduce. Their inorganic bodies, as well as their small size, mean they will not prey upon native wildlife. This also makes it difficult for them to transmit otherworldly viruses that are harmful to other organic life, and due to the nature of their hardy, protective shell, which is composed primarily of minerals, subjecting them to intense heat is enough to sterilize their bodies of any bacteria that may hitchhike onto their shell during intergalactic transport._

_Aside from this, barians are popular pets for young children and casual owners. Commonly ranging from 4-6 inches in length, the small size of a barian makes them akin to the concept of a “Pet Rock” if pet rocks were able to move—meaning they are portable and accessible to many households. Furthermore, barians are notoriously resilient. Although not as cuddly as other small pets, the rocky shell of a barian means that they can adequately endure the careless hands of rowdy children, and if their shell were to chip or fracture, which is inconsequential but can be worrisome to some owners, there are several services available to aid in repair through the application of high heat and pressure. Their hardy nature, however, pales in comparison to their most attractive trait—they require no food nor water to survive. They only require a modest amount of sunlight to function properly, and if it cannot be provided, the barian enters a hibernation-like stasis until they have access to the necessary energy. So far, there is no recorded evidence that a barian can die due to lack of sunlight as their bodies naturally contain enough energy to slumber indefinitely. Despite their low maintenance, they are a social species that habitually live in large communities of thousands or more in nature. Without native predators in their habitat, they are incredibly docile and respond well to human interaction. As such, they are considered very good pets for children or persons that find the high cost and maintenance of a dog, cat, or other exotics pets to be too overwhelming._

_From collectors and enthusiasts, barians are popular in the same manner as leopard geckos or ball pythons with their many different morphs. However, unlike those species which rely on breeding to produce a multitude of colorful morphs, barians are unique in that their colors and patterns mimic the wide range of colors and patterns of minerals—or more specifically, of rocks. Because of different geologic settings as well as the unpredictable life of a barian prior to its capture, allowing them to amass injuries that often regenerate with a different subset of minerals than the current composition, very few barians are identical in their outer composition, making them perfect for avid collectors._

_Like rocks, specimens come in a wide array of vibrant colors. Barians with common minerals or duller compositions range from $500 to $1,000 each. Barians with rarer minerals or higher grades can rise to as high as $3,000 each. However, the most expensive barians are those that are highly-sorted or composed of a single—or majority, starting from >80%—mineral. These can typically cost upwards of $5,000, and it only increases with rarity. _

_A majority of the barians in the market derive directly from the wild, and despite some undergoing modifications on Earth—mostly to repair fractures—a large portion of them are unaltered and natural. Although it is possible to deshell a barian and coerce it into completely regenerating its body with a particular composition or mineral in mind, the process is very expensive due to the energy required to maintain constant high temperatures and pressure for years, possible decades and more; this is in comparison to regenerating a small fracture, which can take about a week at most and is relatively cheap. Furthermore, barians are living creatures that can alter the formation of the crystals by migrating to areas in the chambers that have slightly different parameters (heat, available ions, pressure, etc..), leading to a wide array of unintended outcomes. Because of the uncertainty factor and the costs, typical collectors do not partake in geogenesis, and those that do have yet to produce a barian that is worth the effort in terms of ideal mineral composition or purity._

_However, due to ease of maintenance, rampant hoarding of barians is more widespread than hoarding of other trade species, which need food, water, and some amount of enrichment to remain alive and breeding. Barians that are no longer used for showcases can be placed into a stasis by depriving them of sunlight, and if left undisturbed, they can be stored indefinitely with no known consequences. A single enthusiast can easily amass dozens to hundreds of barians._

_The lucrative market is only beginning to boom. Transportation of the high-density lifeforms and exploring a faraway, hazardous planet does not come cheap, yet with colonies of barians percolating every crevice of the planet, the possibility of a new or rare discovery is enough to pique interest. Even though the planet is home to an estimated tens of billions of barians, concerns of overharvesting has been a prominent discussion in the trade. The planet’s discovery is recent—only half a century since its initial discovery with barians entering the pet trade about two decades ago—so harvesting them at an increasingly high rate may have unforeseen consequences on the planet’s unknown ecosystem. Recent regulations have limited the numbers of annual harvest per company to prevent damages two the unique ecosystem—_ '

“Oh god, finally.”

With a sigh of relief, Thomas scribbled the random number down on the top of the page.

‘2’

His eyes scanned the remaining paragraphs. After making sure that no other numbers were hiding in the winding strings of word, Thomas turned to the next page. His fingers brushed over at least another ten pages of readings, and the man let out a groan of frustration. “What the fuck.”

Today was his birthday, for god's sake!

He was actually happy that his dear little brother bothered to visit him this year instead of mailing him his gift.

They watched movies together! They went out to eat! And Michael decided to play this cruel trick on him?

"There are four numbers you need for the lock," his younger brother sternly said as he handed him the giant packet and his present. Thomas’ eyes immediately fell upon the metal box that was clamped shut using a padlock, and then his smile sunk into a frown. "Read it thoroughly _._ " Michael emphasized the last word before hugging the man and waving him goodbye.

He knew his brother had good intentions considering the contents of the present, but hiding the combination inside of the reading—and it was a lot of reading—was a new low for him. It didn’t help that Thomas despised academia, unlike his smartass brothers and father, with their scientific discoveries and archeological findings and—but he digressed. Thomas wasn’t one to sit down and absorb text like a sponge.

He’d skim. And then he would have to backtrack because he didn’t comprehend the last five sentences.

And for what?

For some barian?

Some " _silicon-based lifeform incapable of metabolizing carbons_ "?

Some pet that Thomas had little incentive to care for nor keep?

He had no idea why his brother thought that injecting his busy life with this dumb rock was a good idea. Thomas was sorely incapable of responsibility above the bare minimum, and he proved that by begging for a puppy some several years ago, then had his brothers cleaned up after that dog for as long as she lived. He appreciated that Michael covered his weak spots by gifting him something that couldn’t _die_ but talk about inconsiderate.

To him, at least.

Thomas sighed. He should get this poor creature out of the container soon.

Michael must’ve crammed it in there before he arrived; who knows how long it been in there.

His eyes meandered to the next line, and he began to read it aloud so that he wouldn’t miss a single word—or more specifically, a single number.

General history…

General care…

Behavioral cues…

Enrichment opportunities…

Websites for more information…

Prospects for the future…

C… Citations!

He managed to collect another number before reaching the final page. On it was a single, handwritten paragraph.

‘ _Thomas, I get that you’re lonely over there. And I know that having a pet is the last thing on your mind. But I think Benetnasch will be a positive influence on your life._

_The last number is 4, and everything you need for him should be in your PO box by now._

_Please be kind to him._

_— Love, Michael :)_ '

Thomas reread that last bit.

Lonely? Him? No! he had no idea where his brother got that idea. Maybe it was the overabundance of text messages and constant complaining that set the kid off.

He wasn't lonely.

It was a quiet apartment complex, sure; his wealthy background meant he could afford this place without the support of any roommates. And he was working as a model in the heart of Heartland City! It was a nice gig. It just meant that he had to work far away from his friends and family, that was all.

But he wasn't _that_ lonely.

Thomas turned to the correct digits into the keypad. He sincerely prayed that he chose the correct set of numbers because he didn’t want to review the entirety of that obnoxiously tedious packet again solely for these stupid digits.

‘ _1…2…3…4_ ’

The man scoffed. Of course.

"Stupid Michael…" he muttered lowly—making him utilize some form of reading comprehension, the nerve of that guy.

With a firm downward tug, the padlock unlocked with a light ‘ _clink_ ’. Thomas let out a sigh of relief.

As he maneuvered the latch out of the rivets, his mind meandered back to the Michael’s final words.

"Benetnasch, huh?" he said aloud, tasting the name on his tongue. What a mouthful of a word.

He tossed the lock aside. His fingers gripped the edge of the present before gently prying it upward. The lid came off with ease, and so he opened the box—only to find yet another box inside.

A small, clear, and round container, actually. It was firmly nestled in the center of the box within bundles of shredded newspaper and cotton balls, securing it in place and preventing the insides from rattling back and forth during transport. His eyes drew to the contents of the little capsule. A globular mass of red and purple minerals laid within it; his little body was curled into a tight coil to accommodate for the lack of space.

Thomas noticed an index card settled on top of the materials besides the container, so he investigated that first.

Pinching the tip of the paper with his nail, he pulled it out before briefly skimming over it:

‘ _NE32_1107_ _Composition: >85% fine-grain quartz crystals of varying shades of purple; embedded primarily with pyrite, red-tinted fluorite, and red-stained muscovite. Displays heterochromia in the irises._’

“Uh-huh…” After scanning the words once or twice to try to decipher the language, he clicked his tongue before tossing the card back into the box. He’ll look that stuff up later.

He focused his attention towards the main attraction. Reaching for the container, his fingers clamped down on the circumference of the lid like a claw in a crane machine. He carefully lifted it out of the larger box and held it above his head towards the light. His eyes scanned the bottom and sides, rotating it with the turn of his wrist, trying to examine the barian as much as he could before opening it, but the little guy was too tightly compressed to see anything besides the reddish drapes cocooning his violet form.

Thomas placed the container onto the table, and then he moved to open it. A layer of clear tape prevented the lid from coming off, but it was nothing that Thomas couldn’t handle.

Peculiarly, he noticed several punctures in the plastic lid. They protruded upward like tiny anthills and allowed a stream of fresh air to seep into the capsule. Although this was expected with the shipment of other animals—most of which require oxygen to, well, be alive—barians do not need oxygen to survive. It was mentioned in his homework, and assuming that Michael typed up the entire thing, the young man must know that as well. Why he poked a bunch of holes in the lid, Thomas didn’t know and didn’t care. Maybe Michael wanted to be on the safe side since gifting his brother a dead rock for his birthday would be a big mood-killer.

Thomas chuckled at that thought. He might ring the guy up later tonight and cry wolf, just to see what happens, just to fuck with the sheepish runt for making him read.

His nails picked at the adhesive until a piece of the tip came up. He peeled back the layers until all of the restraints were removed.

Meanwhile, despite the constant rattling and tapping as he struggled to pick up the tape, the barian remained inactive and unmoving.

Oh god, Thomas hoped he wasn't dead.

He quickly pried open the lid. He held his breath before peering inside at the crumpled mound of crimson sheets.

And then… he stirred.

With the compressing pressure of the lid absent, the barian, Benetnasch, was able to shift about in the cramp space. The drapes over its body loosened, and then an array of violet apexes emerged from under the coverings. As the head unraveled, a pair of golden antennas, jagged prongs, flickered outward from the base of his forehead. When the prongs detected a flood of bright light emitting from the overhead lamp, Benetnasch lifted his face with a curious purr. The barian flicked his antennae a couple more times, and then he uncoiled itself, stretching and sitting up in the process. The thin, crimson cloak—Thomas recalled that it was called fluorite or something, one of the red… rocks—ruffled back and forth before tuckering itself behind the barian. Bits of it hung over his shoulders like a poncho, or a cape.

Thomas stared at him, eyes widened, way more impressed with Benetnasch than he expected. The descriptions on a barian in the papers were vague since they come in a variety of shapes. Some were anthropoids, some were quadrupeds, others were lumpy or globular, and he even remembered reading that there was a barian that was stringy like a platter of spaghetti.

He expected his barian to be nothing more than a dark lump of coal with googly eyes attached to it, so the rather regal, humanoid-ish appearance was a pleasant surprise.

From what he gathered on the notecard, his barian should be mainly purple with bits of red, and that was true. From the tip of his eight antlers—which were more pronounced at the forefront with the size decreasing as they reached the back of its head—to the base of his jewel-encrusted talons, the colors transitioned between patterns of dark and light shades of purple. The glimmering skin was partly translucent, although it leaned closer to being opaque than true translucency. The barian had a fair share of red on him too. Apart from the fabric-like cloak, bright rubies littered all over his body in an organized manner. The most prominent were the ones encasing the tip of his fingers and toes like poignant, shiny, and red claw and talon caps. However, the barian was lacking in the five-digit pads of a human. Each hand held four stubs with the two outermost digits comprised of an opposable thumb. As for his hind paws, he held only three anterior digits on each. Several other gems were embedded in a golden masses that were also attached to his body. In fact, it looked like plenty of the gems were included within this gold, including one on his forehead—the one that held the twitching prongs—shoulders, and hips. Individual gold masses also permeated the sides of his body as kite-like gems or serving as braces on his wrists and ankles. He noted streaks of some baby-blue material dripping down Benetnasch’s cheeks from his dark red and blue eyes, too, and as the barian slowly blinked, Thomas found that his eyelids were the same blue coloration.

Overall, it was… a very pleasant surprise.

"Whoa…" he said aloud.

The barian piqued at the noise. He turned his attention from the light source, twisting his head until his eyes locked onto Thomas. The antlers twitched. He blinked. A sound similar to the noise of pebbles rolling against each other erupted from the tiny body, no more than five-inches tall.

Gradually, he hovered a hand above the container and Benetnasch.

The barian tilted its head backwards as the antennae pulled backwards. Another rumble sounded out.

Thomas slowly lowered his hand until the tip of his index finger touched the barian’s purple head, who emitted a single squeak at the contact. Smiling widely, the man brushed his finger back and forth, petting the creature like he would a very small dog.

He felt like a really smooth rock.

Well, most of him. The tips of the violet antlers and golden prongs were as sharp as a needle, and after being prickled by them, he made sure to be more cautious. 

"Aren't you a little scamp," he cooed, patting the little creature.

The barian produced a deep rumbling noise in response. “Rrrrr…”

Rumbling—that meant it was either very happy or upset—

"Yowch!" Thomas screamed when the yellow pinchers jerked forward and clamped down onto his fingertip. The serrated interior of the appendages locked tightly onto his skin, sending bursts of pain from the tip of his finger, up his arm, and into his central nervous system in less than a second.

Immediately, the large man recoiled in shock. He attempted to remedy this pain by yanking his hand backwards, but the barian was resilient. His prongs, after all, was used primarily to anchor him to any rugged surface during heavy storms. So as Thomas pulled his hand away, Benetnasch hung onto his finger like a starving hyena gripping onto the last piece of meat. In fact, the action only caused the tiny rock creature to tighten the pinchers, further adding to Thomas’ agony.

Escalating the situation even more, Thomas responded not by calming down and convincing the barian to let go of him, but by wildly flailing his hand back and forth, swinging it around; inadvertently, this forced the barian to pinch tighter than ever before.

“Shit, let go—whoa—!”

As Thomas was occupied with the stubborn barian, he failed to notice that the seat he was sitting on, a rolling chair placed atop a rug, had one of its wheels tangled in the bundles of fabric because of the twisting and turning. And with the barian refusing to release his finger, Thomas pushed his legs against the floor to roll the chair backwards so that he could stand up. The wheel locked into place, and instead of clearing up the space between him and his desk, Thomas found himself falling backwards at a heart-stopping rate.

The chair toppled over; alas, he was unable to catch the edge of the desk or reorient himself, and so the man tumbled backwards with his arms thrashing about for an entirely new reason.

Benetnasch, however, sensed the quick descent, and shortly before Thomas collided into the ground, the barian released the grip on his finger at the height of a firm swing of a limb. The barian flung into the air before arching to a complete halt, and then he descended with the pull of gravity—Thomas caught it off the corner of his eye, but he was unable to do anything more than screaming and falling.

“No—ack!” The man crashed onto the ground with a resounding thud, causing the walls and lights to clatter and swing upon impact, and as he took a second to gather his senses, he remembered the meteor seconds away from impact. His eyes shot open, and he jerked onto his hands and knees to catch the creature—

Only for him to plop gracefully onto the surface of his plushy bed several feet away…

Thomas exhumed a relieved exhale. He _did not_ want to deal with the barian doctor if the fall was enough to fracture his shell.

But then…

He pulled up the scuffed finger that the barian bit. Luckily, it didn’t draw any blood, but it sure hurt like hell!

A low and annoyed growl escaped his lips.

He scrambled towards the barian, who sat on the soft bed with his antennae flickering like nothing was wrong.

"You little shit!" He berated the little creature, pointing an accusatory finger at his body, but maintaining enough distance so that Benetnasch couldn’t pinch him again.

Benetnasch eyed his finger, and then his attention meandered towards the angered expression on his owner’s face.

He rumbled.

And then he closed his eyes.

The barian rattled his body, shaking it back and forth, allowing his antlers and prongs to sway like a field of wheat against the wind. The shaking unraveled his crimson drapes, too, and after the tremors subsided, the barian settled down. He opened his eyes but kept them half-closed. His cape laid over him like a blanket.

Then he began to… groom himself. Secreting a bile from the bottom of his chin to wash up his slightly marred body, wiping away minute pieces of skin from his pinchers, kneading that obnoxious cape of his, completely ignoring Thomas and his grievances.

Thomas frowned.

Oh boy, what a wonderful gift; he would’ve preferred a real pet rock compared to this dumb thing.

He sighed. "Thanks a lot, Michael."

**Author's Note:**

> hurrk
> 
> durbe is kyanite, gilag is olivine-serpentine (chrysotile), alito is probably garnet with tomato juice spilled onto him, merag is ice because, mizar is any sulfide mineral mashed into an ore, _vector is 100% asbestos_ , i am not a geologist, i made this list by throwing darts at a spinning wheel, good bye and let me know which rock you would lick in the field
> 
> (\\_/)  
> — (o.o)  
>  (___)0


End file.
